


stars of love look bright till they're ready to die.

by inquisitioned



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, spoilers abound!, why doesn't anyone like cordia but me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitioned/pseuds/inquisitioned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You made me think you were better than that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	stars of love look bright till they're ready to die.

It was Stiles who’d told Lydia what had happened in his room earlier that day, in a lengthy text message that ended with “Cora’s in the hospital." She’s gotten her fair share of Stiles texts in the time that Lydia’s had him in her stratosphere, but there was something different about this one. 

 

But when she made her way to Stiles’, her feet decided to carry her to Beacon Hills hospital instead. It wasn’t a fugue state, or anything, even if the initial thought made her stomach twist unpleasantly, but rather she was lost in her thoughts, until she’d stopped in front of Scott’s mother and asked to see the room with Hale, please. 

 

She looked at her like it was some sort of werewolf thing, a mix of worry and maybe a tiny bit of pity, and Lydia flicked a piece of her hair over her shoulder and said it was just a visit, and kept any anxiety off her face until her heels clicked slowly down the hall and she stopped at the door. 

Lydia was never the type of person to visit people in the hospital; at least not before, when she just came along to be sure that Jackson could walk afterwards. But there was something about Cora, something Lydia felt—guilty for, maybe, something that made her heart twist like it used to with Jackson, not so dead and cold like she tried to make it sound. Cora had gotten hurt because of her, even if she was stupid enough to try and attack Aiden head on, and even if her words—all of them—still stung like something fierce, Lydia made her way across the room and sits in the chair. Cora looked strange in that bed, too small, too fragile for someone who’d just gotten up from every blow she’d had before, and it made Lydia’s mouth curve into a frown, recalling their argument and the way she’d just made Lydia bristle, and she shook her head, reaching across the bed and covering the small, fragile hand with her own. 

There’s nothing she could really say—she wasn’t like Stiles, couldn’t just talk to nothing, so Lydia settled for letting her gaze sweep over Cora, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and pressed her lips together. “Are you really going to let a blow to the head be what takes you out? You made me think you were better than that. You can't just show up and _insult_ us, and then decide to up and die." Lydia snapped her mouth shut when Cora stirred; she made a noise, and Lydia's eyebrows knitted together, and the hesitant hand on hers finds a grip instead, calloused hands against soft ones--just as Cora's hand came up at the same time, turned over so that Lydia's fit into hers, smaller, softer than Jackson's, than Allison's even, and then the sound of footsteps broke the spell.

Lydia looked from where she’d been staring, Cora’s pale face, the bow of her mouth, her skin pale as ivory, and jerked up from her seat, hurrying out of the room just long enough for Derek Hale to catch sight of her strawberry blonde hair.


End file.
